


Tomb Raider AU

by Voldemort



Series: Tomb Raider AU [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Tomb Raider AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-10
Updated: 2012-09-10
Packaged: 2017-11-13 23:12:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voldemort/pseuds/Voldemort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles as Lara Croft. Nuff said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tomb Raider AU

**Author's Note:**

> Idea came up when I was playing temple run and talking with a friend led to Stiles in shorts, idk. Fanart made by the same friend will be linked to this later, once she's posted.
> 
> Edit: She posted, here you go. http: //unlockthesehandcuffs. tumblr.com/post/31300486813/indecent-drawer-he-knew-the-wink- was-pure

Stiles dodged an incoming flood of bullets, managing to slip into a corner and prevent one of the bullets from getting intimate with his left buttcheek. "Holy god, that was close," he squeezed his flesh just to make sure it's intact, all fleshy and butt-looking, one hole is  enough thank you very much.

  
"Stiles," the voice came with the static of the receiver, "Stiles! Are you okay man? Answer me!" he pulled the ear piece out of his ear, cause seriously?  
  
"Dude, what the hell? Could you be anymore louder? I'm fine, just give me a sec, I'll be done soon. Just have to do one final thing," he chucked out the receiver to the floor, he could distantly hear Scott yelling at him through it but he doesn't bother.  
  
He eyes at the vines littering the ceiling, along with the rival raiders hot on his wheels. He could see two to his left, rifles on the ready and cautiously looking through everything and three burly guys doing the same thing on his right.  
  
The head honcho on the other hand was just lounging on the rock, completely at ease with one local boy on his side fanning his pompous self. Just for that reason, Stiles was gonna play them harder than he planned to.  
  
"You're not gonna get it, you know that right?" he stepped out from behind the rock, leaning against the other side of it with the last piece of the key held in between his fingertips.

  
He got five guns aimed at him for that.  
  
"Well well Mr Stilinski, you sure have a lot of balls crashing my party. You do realise you're not gonna come out of this alive, don't you? Now, I might consider sparing your life, let your pretty little behind walk out of here unharmed, just as long as you hand over the key."  
  
Stiles pretended to think about it, making a move as if to throw it over before jumping off the ledge and hanging off the vines. Using his body weight, he swung around the old chamber and started shooting.  
  
One minute later he landed on his feet in front of the gaping leader, blowing off the smoke from his gun, and all five goons passed out on the floor. "You were saying?" he hurled the other piece towards him before turning tail, the boy running right after.  
  
"Amateurs," He scoffed and bent over to pick it up, his pants ripping just as he was coming right up, "Son of a bitch! Really? Really? Why does this always happen to me? Man, Stiles just can't take a break can he?" Realising he sounded silly talking to himself cause surprise surprise, he threw away the only mode of communication, he decided to resign to his no-cool-always-a-fool existence and started climbing up the rock wall to the top, where the key hole was apparently located. It didn't stop him from grumbling the whole way up though.  
  
His discontent didn't beat the euphoria of having the ancient artifact heavy in his hand once the door unlocked. Ripped pants and coolness be damned, this is what he lived for, what fueled his existence ever since his mom died.  
  
"My my, that's not something you see every day," Stiles almost dropped the priceless artifact when the voice came from behind, he looked back and saw of course, Derek fucking Hale, all smug smile and charming abs. The bastard hadn't even had the decency to pull a shirt on before scaring the shit out of him.  
  
He opened his mouth to warn him off his toy before realising he wasn't referring to the golden clock he's holding, he was referring to the ripped seams going from his crotch up to slightly before his top butt. Shit! He must've seen his junk when he was, now that he thought about it, slutty climbing cause hey, how else would you do it? Stiles just like to do a bit of extra leg spreading and maybe butt popping when he climbs, he found it to be character building and uh, made him feel a lil bit sexy inside? In his defense, he only did it when nobody's around. Any living soul within vicinity, it's garrr hairy meat eating Stilinski, he made sure of it.  
  
"The fuck are you doing here Derek? I thought you're off god knows where and never coming back, that's why you left me remember?" Yes ladies and gentlemen, the infallible Stiles used to hook up with the dickwad before he ran off to the other side of the world leaving nothing but a note saying 'be back later, wait for me ;)'  
  
He knew the wink was pure evil, it made his heart flutter and made him smile into his pillow when he woke up. The wink turned more like a mocking as time went by and Stiles still haven't heard anything from him.  
  
Until today.  
  
"Is that how you greet an old friend? I'm hurt Stiles," he said with that stupid grin still pasted on his stupid face. Stiles just looked at him, he looked good, even better than he remembered, life must've been good to him post stiles. He smiled more easily than before, he used to have to coax it out of him by acting cute and even then it's all in the privacy of their bedroom.  
  
That one single detail managed to squeeze his heart, all the hurt he thought he had buried deep deep inside came bubbling up to the surface. Stiles really thought he was over him, so he was unprepared for the punch in the gut he's feeling.  
  
Derek must have sensed the tension as his smile started to falter the longer Stiles stared blankly at him. He opened his mouth to say something but Stiles had enough, he didn't have to deal  with this. He walked back to that hole in the wall where he stashed his small carrier bag. He shouldered the bag and strapped his gun back to his thigh.  
  
He turned back around only to find Derek so much closer to him, like few inches away from his face closer. He moved back to give some more space in between them, which Derek refused to allow by eating it up as he loomed closer. "Stop," he uses his palms to physically stop him from nearing. "I'm gonna go and you are not following me. I hope you have a good life and we will never meet again."  
  
Derek honest to god, growled, there's no other word for it. He refused to budge over when he tried to push him away, opting to now pushing him against the wall instead. This...is not good. He's literally trapped between a rock and a hard place, and ow, who knew a clock could be so pointy and painful?  
  
"Get off me Derek! Get off get off get off," he got a touch hysterical there but he knew what will happen if he let this go on any further. Stiles will give in. Stiles always give in. Derek boxed him in with his arms, really trapping him now; his face was also so much closer as Stiles' moved back until he could feel the uneven surface on his buzzed head. His movement only served to bare his neck to Derek, an opportunity he didn't let go to waste.  
  
At first it was just a nuzzle, the tip of his nose tracing the lines of his throat. Stiles managed to rein in his whimper before it came out, unwilling to show not a smidgeon of weakness. Derek seemed to know anyhow and progressed to nipping at his skin.  
  
He whimpered.  
  
He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the prickle of heat behind his eyelids. He took a few unsteady breaths to compose himself before gathering up all of his strength and used it all in one single push. Derek budged... for like an inch. That just frustrated him more, and the filling of tears in his eyes was certainly not helping.  
  
"Derek, just. Just god, lemme go, just let me go. I, I n-need, just lemme go alrite?"  
  
Derek frowned at his undoubtedly wet eyes, staring for a few seconds before saying a firm, "No."  
  
With that, all the fight just flew out of Stiles, he slumped back and his backpack that went loose with his struggle fell gently on the floor. He looked away from Derek and stared at a point to his right. Before he could stop it, one single tear rolled down his right cheek, along with it, his resignation.  
  
Derek turned his face with his hand, his thumb brushing away all evidence. His hand was gentle and even the look in his eyes were soft, it felt tender. Stiles just, don't understand and he couldn't help himself but ask, "Why did you leave me Derek?"  
  
Derek took his time answering, running his fingers across his face, tracing the curve of his eyes and the plumpness of his bottom lip before he opened his mouth, "I'm sorry Stiles, I'm sorry I hurt you. Something happened with my pa...family, I had to go and handle that."  
  
"You could have called. Or even just text me or or something, instead of leaving me hanging. Did you know how worried I was you stupid man!? I thought, I thought…”

“What? What did you think Stiles?”

“I thought you didn’t care. I thought I didn’t matter. It fucking hurt Derek. It...still hurts,” Derek rested his forehead on his, hands cradling his jaws and rubbed their noses together. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” kisses followed every apology, placed on any piece of skin he could reach. “I’m sorry, I fucked up and I am so so sorry.”

Derek made him look him straight into his eyes and said, “Say what you want Stiles, but don’t you ever think I never cared for you. I think about you all the time, you have no idea how many times I thought of coming back to you the whole time I was away. It was...complicated. I swear I’ll explain it to you later but I need you to believe me right now, that I care for you. Please?”

Stiles took his time really looking for any hints of deception in his eyes. Finding none, he felt the squeeze in his heart abate. He loosened the death grip he had on Derek’s shoulder and redirected his hands to wrap around Derek, his face planted into his shoulder, smelling that scent he almost forgotten. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

Stiles was _finally_ content.

“Stiles.”

“Hmmmm?”

“Your ass looks good from here.”

 Stiles rolled his eyes and retorted, “Shut up, Sourwolf.”

 Stiles had _no_ fucking idea how much that rang true.

 

 

 

 


End file.
